


if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

by HeartonFire



Series: i'm a mess, but i'm the mess that you wanted [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Former Hook-Up, Hurt Clint Barton, Injury, M/M, Miscommunication, No Beta, Soft Boys, nurturing Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: Clint has a mishap in his apartment and accidentally calls Bucky for help.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: i'm a mess, but i'm the mess that you wanted [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188158
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108





	if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

**Author's Note:**

> Based very loosely on an incident that happened to me almost a year ago, which is chronicled in [this tumblr post](https://heartonfirewrites.tumblr.com/post/616694691650486272/let-me-start-by-saying-im-fine-im-ok-it-could). Enjoy!

This looks bad.

Clint wakes up on the floor of his kitchen, Lucky standing on his chest and licking his face, and he can only vaguely remember how he ended up here.

“Aw, head injury, no,” he grumbles, raising his right hand to feel at the lump on the back of his head. Pain is shooting up his left arm in bursts, and his fingers feel a little numb. He can’t move his arm. This is decidedly not good.

Fishing his phone out of his back pocket, he tries to focus on the screen, but his head feels like it might split in half if he looks at it much longer. Punching his thumb at the contacts, he hits the first one he sees and hears it ring before he blacks out again.

When he comes to the next time, he can hear someone opening the door to his apartment. _There is someone in his apartment_. His phone has fallen to the side, and he doesn’t actually know who he called, but someone is breaking in and he can hardly open his eyes without cringing from the pain. Is it really breaking in if the door isn’t locked? Clint isn’t sure, but he doesn’t want anyone to find him like this. With his luck, it’s the Russian gangsters, here to try to take the building again.

His heart is pounding in his chest, and he tries to think of how to command Lucky to attack, when all he’s ever wanted to do is lick people’s hands and beg for food. 

Heavy footsteps approach, and Clint cracks his eyes open to see Bucky standing over him. He’s frowning, eyes tracing over Clint to check for injuries.

“Hey,” Clint says, as casually as he can from his position, sprawled on the floor. “What’s up?”

“You called me,” Bucky says slowly, crouching down beside Clint. Lucky launches himself at Bucky and nearly knocks him over, but falls to the ground as soon as Bucky starts scratching him behind the ears, looking for belly rubs. “What happened?”

“Help me up and I’ll tell you.”

Bucky holds out a hand and Clint grabs it with his right, pulling himself up. When he struggles a little, Bucky’s metal arm slides behind his shoulders to help him sit. The pain is so bad now, he can’t even keep his eyes open. His head is spinning, and he has a feeling like he might be sick. Bucky doesn’t try to move him again, just stays there, hand in Clint’s, arm around his back, until Clint forces himself to nod.

Clint clutches at Bucky’s hand and braces himself against the sickening throb of his shoulder every time it gets jostled. He manages to stand, and Bucky loops Clint’s right arm behind his own back, to support him over to the couch. Lucky circles them, and Clint nearly stumbles over him, but his dog is smart enough to get out of the way when he has to.

Once Clint is settled, resting his head back against the cushions, Bucky lets go of him to crouch in front of him, tracing his fingers over Clint’s head to feel for the bump Clint knows is there. The touch is soothing, except when Bucky finds the spot where he hit his head. Clint winces, a sharp hiss escaping him, and Bucky withdraws his hands. Sitting back on his heels, Bucky frowns at Clint, looking closely at his eyes. Clint wonders what he sees.

“We’re going to have to reset your shoulder. And you’re going to need to see a doctor.”

“No. No doctors. I’ll be fine. Just pop it back in and I’ll be fine.”

Bucky sighs. “I’m also pretty sure you have a concussion. Your pupils are dilated and you’re swaying where you sit. Please let me take you to a doctor.”

“No,” Clint says, as firmly as he can when his entire body hurts. He’s always hated doctors, ever since he was a kid. He isn’t going to one now. “Please Bucky. Just help me.”

Sighing again, Bucky motions to him to sit up. Clint presses into the cushion with his right hand, fingers digging into the material while he forces himself to sit up straight. Bucky gently takes his hand and studies his reaction. Clint can’t help but wince. Even that tiny movement sends shooting pain up his arm.

“This is going to hurt.”

Clint nods. It isn’t his first dislocation. He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to know when it’s coming, and Bucky doesn’t tell him, just pulls his arm straight in front of him, stretching it until Clint feels it pop back into place. He groans, sinking back, arm still throbbing as he hugs it to his chest.

“Let me make a sling,” Bucky says, and Clint peeks at him through half-closed eyelids.

“There’s one in the bathroom under the sink,” Clint mumbles, suddenly feeling very sleepy. His body is shaking, and he feels cold, though he can feel the sweat on his skin.

“Hey, Clint, wake up,” Bucky says, gently lifting Clint’s head to loop the sling around his neck, lifting his arm as slowly as he can to bend it and let it rest. “You can’t go to sleep right now.”

“I’m tired,” Clint whines, but he opens his eyes. Head injuries are no joke, and he isn’t trying to die today. Lucky jumps up beside him on the couch, snuggling under his right hand, and he strokes his soft fur.

“What happened?” Bucky asks again, offering Clint a glass of water and two Tylenol. Clint pops the pills into his mouth, takes a sip of water and hands the glass back to Bucky. Bucky frowns, but takes it, settling in beside Clint on his other side, eyes still tracing over him, like there might be more injuries he just hasn’t seen yet. With Clint, it’s always a possibility.

“I’m not totally sure. I was trying to get something off the top shelf,” Clint said, nodding at his kitchen. “I couldn’t quite reach it, so I was leaning on the cabinet with my left hand, and my hand was wet, so it slipped, and I felt my shoulder pop. And then I was on the floor. Not entirely sure what happened in between.”

Bucky nods, still frowning. “And you called me.”

“Yeah, I was barely with it enough to get out my phone. You must have been the first person on my contact list.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you for coming, by the way.”

“When you didn’t actually say anything, I got worried.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” 

Bucky shrugs. “Not your fault. I’m just glad you called.”

“Yeah?”

Clint hasn’t seen Bucky in about a month. They had been hooking up whenever they were both in the city, but no matter how hard Clint tried to avoid it, he ended up having _feelings_ for Bucky that he wasn’t sure were reciprocated. Instead of being an adult and actually talking to Bucky about it, he had moved out of the Tower and back into his apartment. He’d texted Bucky to say that he was sorry, that he needed space, and Bucky had respected that. Clint hasn’t heard from him since. 

It does make it a little awkward for him to be here now. He’s never been to Clint’s actual apartment before. All their hooking up had been in the Tower, sneaking past JARVIS and the other Avengers to tear each others’ clothes off and make each other feel good. Thinking about it now is nearly enough to make Clint want to lean over and kiss him, just to remember how it felt. Bucky is an exceptionally good kisser. He’s good at a lot of other things, too, things that had made it especially hard to let him go, even when Clint felt like it was the right thing to do.

“You want me to call Natasha, have her come over?” 

Clint blinks at him, the words making it very slowly to his brain. “Uh, sure, if you want. I know you probably have better things to do than sit around here and make sure I don’t die.”

Bucky’s face crumples into a frown. “That’s what you think?”

“Huh?”

“You think I want to just leave you here?”

Clint has no idea what’s happening, and he’s pretty sure the head injury isn’t helping, but he isn’t sure he’d be able to figure it out even if he didn’t have a concussion. 

“I just, I know we left things in a weird place, so if you want to leave, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Bucky laughs bitterly. “I didn’t leave anything, Clint. You did.”

“What?” Clint’s heart is racing. He can feel it throbbing through his aching shoulder. The Tylenol should be working by now, but it’s only taking the rawest edge off the pain. It isn’t touching the knives that feel like they’re digging into Clint’s chest.

“You said you needed space, so I gave you that. I never wanted it.”

“Oh,” Clint says quietly. “I just thought, I don’t know, that things were moving too fast. For both of us”

“And you couldn’t have mentioned that to me? I thought you were done with me, bored of me.” Bucky looks down, staring at his boots and avoiding Clint’s eyes. Clint reaches for him, but forgets for a moment that his shoulder is fucked up, and he whines at the pain. Bucky tenses, blue eyes flashing with concern, before he sinks back into himself, one hand dragging through his long hair. “Listen, we don’t have to get into this now. If you’re uncomfortable with me being here, I’ll call Natasha. I’ll leave. I don’t mind.”

“Wait,” Clint says. Bucky freezes, eyes fixed on Clint’s face. “Wait. I don’t want you to leave. Please, stay.”

Bucky’s face softens, just slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Stay. Please.”

The smile that breaks across Bucky’s face makes Clint forget the pain in his shoulder and his head for a moment. All it took was a dislocated shoulder and a head injury to bring them back together. 

Worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed these two soft boys! I genuinely did not remember that I had finished this a while ago, but here it is! I didn't have a beta for this one, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone.


End file.
